The Eighth Annual G.W. Bush S.O.T.U. Drinking Game

Since January 2001, when our then-new President Bush gave his first fake State of the Union address — it was actually a “budget message,” as he had only been in the White House a few hours and hadn’t yet screwed up the country forever — America has gathered together for one glorious evening each January for our most precious freedom. Yes, we are talking about binge drinking while George W. Bush mispronounces common words on the teevee.

Pick your channel, but make sure it’s a cable channel and not one of those lame old broadcast networks with their decorum and whatever. You need to see actual crazy people such as Chris Matthews or Lou Dobbs or Brit Hume jabbering about this dumb speech. If possible, watch all three cable channels at the same time — and go ahead and reserve the ambulance now, because calling 911 midway through the State of the Union is like trying to call Domino’s at half time on Super Bowl Sunday.

Okay, happy hour’s over and it’s time for our main event. You’ll want to assemble the drinking supplies close by the teevee, so you don’t miss a moment of this historic bullshit. Don’t be the kind of anti-American loser who needs to “find the salt” when things get ugly. Be prepared. If you aren’t ready to be American, we’re sure France would love to have you back. (Just kidding. They don’t want you, either.)

It’s George’s last big speech! Prepare five (5) shot glasses per person, and fill each with 1.5 (one point five) ounces of liquor. (If you can’t handle real booze, make five little margaritas or something, and make sure to get your mom’s permission first!) It is okay to chill your liquor if that’s what you like to do.

Behind this “surge line,” assemble a second “surrender line” of secondary beverages. If you like beer, just put the six pack right there where it can’t get lost. Winos will just need a bottle of wine, uncorked and ready, and maybe a wine glass. Hell, put out a bowl of rummed-up eggnog if that’s how you want to act. You can also put a jug of water on the floor under the table, by the gun, as long as nobody can see it.

If you’re Christopher Hitchens, just put the scotch on the table where it always is, and drink as usual.